


Now and Then

by Angeltiny13



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Emotional Sex, Kang Yeosang-centric, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltiny13/pseuds/Angeltiny13
Summary: But Yeosang was weak and selfish and hopeless. The longing dug roots in his bones, tangled black spindly branches in his lungs, bloomed thick, waxy leaves in his throat. He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed Wooyoung in ways he didn’t know he could miss someone. The regret caged him like the first frost of winter; he ached for spring.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Now and Then

Yeosang swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared up at Wooyoung. The grip he had around Yeosang’s wrists was gentle, terrified almost, like he was paper thin. He might as well have been with how he trembled under Wooyoung’s gaze.

Those eyes had carried an endless spectrum of emotion. Affection to anxiety, mischief to compassion. Sometimes guarded, but always committed to feeling fully. For the first time, Yeosang couldn’t parse out the watercolor whirlwind that stirred and shifted in those eyes. One moment lightning, another a chilling breeze.

“How long?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth.” Yeosang held his stare. 

Wooyoung’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. “But I- Back then you-” He looked close to tears but one blink and a weak veneer of anger replaced the desperate confusion.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Yeosang moved his right hand so he could thread his fingers through Wooyoung’s. He squeezed.

Wooyoung snatched his hand away and sat up. “No,” he swung his leg back over Yeosang, no longer straddling him, “no, I asked and you-  _ you said _ —” He moved to rise from the bed but Yeosang grabbed his shoulder, took his face in his hands, and smashed their lips together.

Wooyoung yelped, sighed, groaned.

“I know what I said. I lied. I was scared,” Yeosang poured out, breathless, frenzied. “I was so scared.” His voice broke like ceramic on concrete. He rubbed his thumbs over Wooyoung’s face. “Please, believe me.” 

Yeosang knew he sounded pathetic, pleading for a love he rejected. Of course, if he could, he would go back and tell the truth. He would keep Wooyoung close instead of at a distance—a safe distance, a socially acceptable distance. He would tell him before he switched companies. He would tell him how touched he was when he’d switched to the same company too. He would be honest about how the fooling around was always more than a way to relieve stress from training. He wouldn’t have cut him off without explanation when they debuted. 

Pressing him against the wall, Yeosang climbed on Wooyoung’s lap, kissed him for everything he was worth and everything Yeosang wasn’t. It was more, so much more that Yeosang feared the cameras would pick up on it and pick it apart. 

But Yeosang was weak and selfish and hopeless. The longing dug roots in his bones, tangled black spindly branches in his lungs, bloomed thick, waxy leaves in his throat. He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed Wooyoung in ways he didn’t know he could miss someone. The regret caged him like the first frost of winter; he ached for spring. 

Something dark and saccharine roiled in his gut. Two years of watching from a distance so close yet too far. Two years of conflict between restraint and release and the frustration bred from both. 

Yeosang rose to his knees, tilted Wooyoung’s head back to deepen the kiss. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said.

Wooyoung panted, licked his rose-bruised lips. “I wanted to be over you,” he whispered, “but how could I?  _ How could I? _ ”

“I thought you were. I…” Goosebumps covered Yeosang’s skin, though a fresh sheen of sweat did too. “I didn’t know what to do.” Even as he admitted it, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. They were in the same group. They still saw each other every minute of every day. But for a time, Yeosang felt a door that had always been left cracked had finally shut with a resounding click. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Yeosang repeated.

“It’s not owed if it’s always been yours.”

Yeosang blinked, the longing strangling his breath. “Wooyoung…”

“Stop stalling.” A smoldering flame overtook his gaze, like a cigarette near gasoline. “I want you. Do you want me?”

“Yes,  _ God, yes _ .” 

“Then make up for the lost time.”

Yeosang shuddered at the command. He yanked his shirt over his head, kissed Wooyoung again before removing his too. He was beyond hard, a frozen rubber band stretched between two poles, so he prayed for patience, for control. Yeosang dropped back into Wooyoung’s lap, sucked the skin of his chest until it blossomed violet. 

Wooyoung cried out, hand flying to tug at the nape of Yeosang’s neck. “Please,” he whined. 

“What?” Yeosang molded kisses into his neck, licked the shell of his ear. “What do you want?”

“Y- you, want you.”

Yeosang was sure he could’ve come untouched with how his voice dripped wet and heavy with dazed lust. The center of his chest throbbed, a gluttonous black hole of desiring and being desired. He got off of Wooyoung and yanked his sweatpants and underwear off in one move. After taking him by the ankles and pulling him to the edge of the bed, Yeosang dropped to his knees and swallowed him whole in one gulp.

Wooyoung moaned loud and long, entire body tensing from the sudden stimulation. His head fell back as his mouth fell open. 

Yeosang exhaled through his nose, hollowed his cheeks, relaxed his throat. Once he pulled off, he took Wooyoung in his hands and jerked him at a relentless pace, grip slippery from all the spit and precum. “Look at me,” he said, voice wrecked from recklessness. 

And when he did, Yeosang faltered on the upstroke. How the hell did he go this long denying Wooyoung? His scarlet-flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, jet-black, sweat-soaked hair. Pretty and perfect and deserving of every possible pleasure. Yeosang sped up his strokes.

Wooyoung winced. “Mmm ‘m n- not gonna last, Yeo.”

“Don’t hold back.”

With a shout, Wooyoung came, spilling over Yeosang’s hand, landing a white stripe across his cheek. Before either could catch their breath, Wooyoung pulled him up and licked his cum off Yeosang’s face, then dipped his tongue into his open mouth. Yeosang kissed him back, too focused to register the salty tang as anything but addictive. 

The longer they kissed, the more insistently Wooyoung tugged on Yeosang’s shorts. “Off,” he spoke against his lips. “Wanna feel you.”

Yeosang nearly tripped trying to pull his shorts off. It seemed he couldn’t move fast enough. As soon as he was bare, Wooyoung palmed his stiff length. And while Yeosang nearly collapsed from the electric satisfaction, he had other plans. He pushed Wooyoung back onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” Wooyoung asked.

“Making up for lost time.” Yeosang lied on his stomach between his legs, took his ass in his hands and thrust his tongue inside.

“Fuck,” Wooyoung screamed, as he writhed around.

Yeosang licked and tongued and sucked until his puckered hole dripped from the saliva. He sat up, edges of his vision black and fuzzy. Wooyoung looked as gone as Yeosang felt, weightless, feather-light. 

Slowly, he pushed his pointer finger into his entrance, curled it, and watched as Wooyoung’s body bent at his command. “This good?” he asked, worry seeping through his lust-filled haze that this might be too much too fast.

Wooyoung nodded frantically. “Don’t you dare stop.”

So, Yeosang didn’t. Not until he was pressing three fingers in and out, rough and persistent. 

“Shit,” Wooyoung hissed through gritted teeth, as he clawed at the sheets. “You’re gonna make me- I’m gonna- Ah!” He came again, painting a thick white mess on his stomach.

With his right fingers trapped and his left gripping Wooyoung’s thigh, Yeosang seized up, cumming untouched into the sheets. He gasped for air, as pure euphoria threatened to drown him in its depths. 

He collapsed on top of Wooyoung, stomachs stuck together by sweat and cum. Neither cared. Wooyoung wrapped his arms around Yeosang, held him tight enough to break. Little did he know, Yeosang had never been so broken, had never been so grateful to be.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been hella whipped for WooSang lately and been wanting to write something for them for DAYS now and I totally set out to write something soft and fluffy, but I literally have no explanation for what manifested on the page. Oops? Hope you enjoy! Leave comments and kudos to let me know what ya think! ^_^


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